


Energy Crisis

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Monsters Inc. Fusion, Crack, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:32:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2198961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Monsters, Inc. AU</strong>. Amid the looming energy crisis in Monstropolis, Enjolras asks Grantaire to be his scare assistant and to help take down Monsters, Inc. from the inside. And Grantaire, well, he'll do pretty much anything the most attractive monster he's ever seen asks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Energy Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile since I last wrote just plain cracky AU fluff, so I wrote this.
> 
> This is placed concurrently along the events in Monsters, Inc., so some understanding of the film may be needed to understand the background plot.
> 
> Usual disclaimer applies, with, of course, the added legal portion when I note that I do not own the rights to Monsters, Inc. or its characters and am just borrowing them for a bit of fun. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

Grantaire’s three eyes blinked slowly at Enjolras’s two. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, and not just because his voice was naturally croaky, even though it was. “You need my —  _what_?”

Enjolras sighed heavily, a puff of smoke emitting from between his fangs when he did, his large, serpentine tail swishing in irritation. “I told you,” he practically growled, his scales shifting between red and gold as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I need your help. I need a scare assistant, and you’re the only one I could think of.”

“But I’m not a scare assistant,” Grantaire said automatically, because, well, he wasn’t. He was technically a janitorial assistant for scarefloors A-B-C at Monsters, Inc., but in practice he spent far less time actually cleaning anything (the floor was just going to get reslimed anyway when Feuilly oozed over it) than dicking around with Bossuet, who had been downgraded when he took the fall for another monster, Marius. “And last time I checked, you wanted nothing to do with being a Scarer.”

That was also true, or least had been when Grantaire last checked. He wasn’t being creepy for knowing that — really — it was just that, well, he and Enjolras kind of went way back. Like to being roommates at Monsters University, back.

Grantaire could remember it so well, that first day at university when he was just like every other young monster, excited to be on campus and away from his parents, even if his dad really,  _really_  wanted him to be a Scarer. It was easy for his dad, though, a large, one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple Scarer who put up some of the best numbers in his time. Grantaire was small for his age, and his shaggy purple fur looked less intimidating than his dad’s purple spikes, by a long shot, but he was young, and naïve, and it would be a good year and half before he realized he had to do what made him happy, not what made his father happy.

On that first day, he had stood in front of the mirror of his dorm room and made the most fearsome face that he could at himself. “Rawr!” he attempted, sounding about as scary as a lion cub, and of course, right at that moment, the doorknob turned and the monster who must be his roommate walked in.

His jaw had dropped and his three eyes widened almost comically at the sight of his roommate: a tall, dragonlike figure complete with large, almost angelic wings and scales that seemed to shimmer between red and the deepest of golds, matched with two blue eyes that surveyed Grantaire coolly. After too long a moment, he held out a clawed hand to shake, saying, “Grantaire, I assume? I’m your roommate, Enjolras, and I’m going to be studying politics.”

Grantaire had just stared at him, transfixed, unaware that his hand was still clutching Enjolras’s, his three eyes still wide with wonder as he blurted, “Why the hell aren’t you studying to be a Scarer?”

And that was how he had found out just how scary Enjolras could be, as the monster in question launched into a tirade against the scaring industry in general and the energy monopolies that scream energy had on Monstroplolis and how, most importantly, when he graduated, he was going to change the world. Grantaire had just nodded along with him, even if he didn’t believe a single thing he was saying.

For a few years after graduation, Enjolras had stuck with that, since when Grantaire had last sent him a message on Fangbook, Monstropolis’s number one social media site, Enjolras had been working for a non-profit organization on the Children Detection Agency watchlist. But now, apparently, Enjolras was the exact thing that he had always sworn never to become: a Scarer.

So Grantaire’s stare at Enjolras was more than a little accusatory, and Enjolras shifted slightly, his wings rustling as he did. “I changed my mind,” he said, a little guiltily.

“Bullshit.”

Enjolras snorted, smoke curling from his nostrils, and shook his head. “You always did have a way with words,” he said wryly, then cocked his head, considering Grantaire closely. “Can I trust you?”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “Have you ever  _not_  been able to trust me?”

“Fair point.” Enjolras took a deep breath. “I have a plan to take Monsters, Inc. down and end the monopoly of scream energy. But it involves me having to work from the inside of the company, and to do that, I need to be—”

“A Scarer,” Grantaire finished softly, the pieces clicking together in his head. Of course. He was honestly surprised that he hadn’t figured it out sooner, since why else would Enjolras suddenly become a scarer? And what else would make Enjolras desperate enough that he would come to Grantaire for help?

It was a suicide mission, without a doubt — Grantaire was not then nor had he ever been swayed by Enjolras’s pretty rhetoric and often fiery (literally, in some cases) speeches — and he knew that this was a cause just about as lost as a cause could be, and they would both undoubtedly end up in the CDA’s custody. But he didn’t say any of that, of course. He just sighed, rolled his three eyes, and said reluctantly, even without knowing any of the finer details, “Fine. I’m in.”

Because on that first day at Monsters University all those years ago, Grantaire had fallen in love with Enjolras. And he had somehow never managed to fall out of it since.

* * *

 

It wasn’t hard getting Enjolras in as a Scarer, since he just  _was_  the part, without even trying. It wasn’t even difficult getting him assigned to scarefloors A-B-C, where he met up with the old crew from university: Courfeyrac and his scare assistant, Combeferre; Jehan, and his scare assistant (ever since Bossuet’s downgrade, anyway), Joly; and Feuilly, and his scare assistant, Bahorel (who had once been a scarer but had a few too many run-ins with human parents and thus was barred from going into the human world).

No, the hardest part was the waiting, since Enjolras’s plan, explained only in part to Grantaire — not because he was untrustworthy, or so Enjolras claimed, but because of the many intricacies of the plan — extended across  _all_  of the scarefloors in what was supposed to be an organized revolution.

And it very well may have been, if not for Grantaire finally, shyly, asking Enjolras out to dinner at Harryhausen’s, and if not for Enjolras’s surprising agreement.

It was supposed to be romantic. It was supposed to be the opportunity for Grantaire to say everything he had always wanted to. It was supposed to be a time for them both to set aside the revolution and confess — on Grantaire’s part, at least — feelings that had been lingering since university.

It was supposed to have been perfect.

Instead, it all went to hell.

A child, the news would report later, had gotten into Monstropolis. Had gotten  _loose_ in Monstropolis, in Harryhausen’s while Grantaire was sitting in the booth across from Enjolras trying to work up the nerve to tell him that he was stupidly in love with him. Everyone lost their collective minds mid-Grantaire’s speech that was supposed to be poetic and was instead erring on the side of vulgar, which was probably for the best to be cut off there. Still, he had not expected what followed in Monstropolis and especially in Monsters, Inc.

All of Enjolras’s carefully laid plans were destroyed by the following afternoon when the corruption within Monsters, Inc., was revealed by the most unlikely of sources: James P. Sullivan and his scare assistant Mike Wazowski, with a little help from the child called ‘Boo’. And just like that, Enjolras — and the rest of the Scarers — were out of jobs and out of a cause. And Grantaire was shunted aside because he was no longer needed.

He had expected as much, when he stupidly agreed to this plan. He had always known where he had ranked with Enjolras and knew when the time came that Enjolras would forget about him in favor of revolution.

It just didn’t make it hurt any less.

* * *

 

He hesitated before knocking on the door, still not convinced that this was the right thing for him to do, but when Enjolras answered it, looking surprised but gratified to see him, he couldn’t help but feel like there was no place else he’d rather be. “I need your help.”

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras said, in his deep, melodic voice, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on Grantaire’s three, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You need my — what?”

Grantaire rolled all three of his eyes but smiled as well. “I need your help. I need a laugh assistant, and you’re the only one I could think of.”

Enjolras cocked his head slightly, still not breaking his gaze with Grantaire. “A laugh assistant?” he repeated. “You’re still working for Monsters, Inc., then?”

“I am,” Grantaire said lightly. “I was always told that with a little effort I could be quite funny, and hey, the kids seem to love me, though one got gum stuck in my fur last week.” He turned to show Enjolras the bit of fur shaved off from his shoulder, and Enjolras hid his laughter at the sight. But then Grantaire turned back around, his expression suddenly serious. “I know that I was never quite what you wanted me to be. But there’s a lot of good to be done now, harvesting clean energy from children’s laughs. And besides, there’s a lot  _more_  good to be done if you can somehow turn the Monstropolis energy supply into a more…universal resource.”

Enjolras instantly brightened. “You think that laugh energy should be free? I can’t say I disagree, since it’s such a cheap and renewable resource, and the government could easily subsidize those working on the laugh floors…” He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he looked suspiciously back at Grantaire. “Why would you want any part of that? You don’t believe in anything like that.”

Grantaire shrugged. “No. But you do. And I want you, so it seemed an easy sell.”

As if realizing what he had said, Grantaire blushed, his purple fur darkening, and Enjolras stared at him before repeating slowly, “You want me…?”

“As a laugh assistant?” Grantaire attempted, though it seemed a flimsy excuse on all levels, and he carefully looked away from Enjolras as he mumbled, “As whatever you would let me have.”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said, firmly. “What do you mean?”

Grantaire ran a hand through his shaggy fur, still avoiding Enjolras’s eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed,” he started, his tone turning wry and sarcastic as it always did when he was uncomfortable, “I’ve kind of been stupidly in love with you ever since university. And I know — I  _know_  — that I’ll never have…you know,  _that_. But I just thought, since you’re out of a job and, really, a cause, if I could have just a small part of you again, then, maybe, that would be enough.”

Enjolras seemed almost frozen. “Harryhausen’s,” he said, suddenly, and Grantaire frowned up at him.

“Pardon?”

“Harryhausen’s,” Enjolras repeated, impatient, his wings rustling as he stared at Grantaire. “That’s what you were trying to tell me that night. That’s why you invited me out. And then the next day…”

Grantaire shifted uncomfortably. “And then the next day you made it pretty clear I was no longer needed,” he finished softly.

For a long moment, they were both silent, until Enjolras sighed deeply and said, in an almost pained voice, “Oh, Grantaire…that is so  _not_  what I meant.” Grantaire chanced a fleeting look up at him, not daring to hope, but quickly looked away, even as Enjolras took a step closer, his voice low and heated. “I was so caught up in the role I might use you for in the Cause that I forgot to even hint at the bigger role that I need you for in my life. I mean, why do you think I came to you, of all people, when I needed someone?”

Grantaire didn’t dare to pretend it meant anything other than how he had originally interpreted it. “You literally told me there was no one else you could think of.”

Enjolras shook his head. “There was no one else I could think of because there was only ever  _you_. Everyone else—” he waved a claw vaguely, but Grantaire knew he meant all their other former Scarer and scare assistant friends “—they all had a place that made sense. You…you were always an anomaly. But I still needed you there. And that was as much an excuse as anything.”

The breath seemed stuck in Grantaire’s throat, and he chanced a look up at Enjolras, who was looking down at him with a look on his face that Grantaire had never before seen. “So…” he started, something between hope and longing in his tone.

“So I would love to work with you,” Enjolras said softly, though he added, “and I would love to overthrow the for-profit system of laugh energy and form a collective that shares energy. With you.” He drew closer and reached out to run his claws lightly over Grantaire’s furred cheek. “I would love to do just about everyting with you.”

And then they were kissing, the way Grantaire had always dreamed since that first day at Monsters University, Enjolras’s claws locked into his fur, Grantaire’s arms wrapped around Enjolras’s scaly waist. Grantaire couldn’t be sure, but he was pretty sure if there was a canister around, from their kiss alone in that moment they would have produced enough energy to power Monstropolis for an entire year.


End file.
